Waking Up
by Supermodel Sandwich
Summary: To save her partner's life, Jill Valentine made the ultimate sacrifice- and gave her own. But when death fails to take her, she finds herself caged by her greatest foe. Waking up to a world where Wesker is king, Jill learns that true evil is hard to kill.
1. First Attempt

Cutting through air like a dagger through flesh- cold wind whipping skin; sharp, stinging, unforgiving…  
Headed to hell with evil itself.

_Are you there, can you hear me…?_

(Are you there, can you feel me…?)

Falling, falling, waiting for release…  
Will it finally be over?

Regardless, I have to...I _have_ to...

Sacrifice to save him.  
The last victim…

_I'm waking up enduring my biggest fears of-  
Distance away (a weight) distance away…_

It ends tonight.  
This fear all ends tonight.

_Are you there, can you hear me…?_

(Are you there, can you feel me…?)

No regrets.

_I'm waking up enduring my biggest fear, love…_

* * *

_Pain. So acute, you knew you had to be alive to experience it. When you've accepted death, pain is an agon__izing reminder that your heart is still beating. You have not escaped the suffering, but you remain to change. Alive; awake. You have survived.  
Will you grieve the option you've been denied; or seize your second chance?  
See through the pain…_

Dark lashes parting slowly, the cloudy eyes of Jill Valentine opened to her foreign, new world.

_Now, breathe. _

Eagerly, she inhaled deep and long, sweet oxygen filling her lungs as her body sprung to life. _Life_…

Her brain was hesitant to process her surroundings, to fill her head with logical thought and question; knowing comprehension would bring her no solace. But when it did, the first thing she felt was the _pain_- everything was _sore_, tender; her body aching with every breath. Although distracting, it was bearable- Jill had no time to wallow in self-pity.  
She was alive, _but_...

This wasn't _safe_. Where _was _she…?

She sat up, clutching her covering to her chest; cold and crisp against her skin. Where were her clothes? An icy chill shot down her spine, as her mind wandered fearfully. What had _happened_...?  
A quick thinker to begin with, Jill's intelligence only dampened her spirits as realization dawned upon her; memory resuming function to shed light on her current situation.  
Her mind flashed back to the last thing she could remember- The Spencer Estate…_Wesker_. But something didn't fit- she knew she had taken that treacherous fall as a last attempt; to save Chris's life; to end Wesker's. But somehow, she had survived. How was she still alive? How had she ended up _here_?  
And _Wesker_…  
If Jill was still breathing, she could only guess with dread of the tyrant's fate- if he wasn't dead, then where was he _now_?  
Part of Jill begged to stay in the dark; pleaded with herself to keep disconnected- the more she discovered, the more terrifying her reality became. But as much as she wished for detachment, instinct forced the gears to start turning, spinning, faster and faster. There were no words to utter for comfort, there were no people to run to for help- just white light, white walls; everything scrupulously neat and _white_.

She had to get _out_ of here.

Shivering atop the cold, steel table on which she sat, Jill's eyes scanned her bland and bleak confinements; finding a variety of mechanical equipment and medical tools. Locating the exit, she was filled with hope- but her ears soon picked up on the faint sound of leisurely footsteps, sending a jolt of electricity shooting through her. Adrenaline rushing through her veins, she quickly swung her legs around to the side of the stretcher, inching herself off cautiously until her feet found the solidity of the floor. Her balance reclaimed, without a second thought she wrapped the sheet provided securely around herself, greatly increasing her range of movement as she prepared for a possibly dangerous encounter.

Hands clenched into tight fists, Jill's senses heightened, her automatic fight response readying her tensed muscles. Her gaze hard on the door in front of her, she tucked a few details in the back of her mind:  
_Code activated; air tight; sealed and computerized._ This could be her only chance of escape.

"Sample zero zero eight four, dash six two three seven; subject evaluation commencing. Code zero zero two four."

The loud, automated voice made Jill jump, and she whirled around frantically to face the source. Switching her prior focus but refusing to relax herself, she stepped carefully toward a messy countertop surrounded by beeping machinery, where a flashing screen caught her eye. The monitor read clearly in bold, blinking letters: ACCESSING TRICELL SUBJECT DATABASE. Upon closer inspection, her heart nearly stopped- just beside the urgent message, a strangely familiar image popped up on the display. She had to squint; hardly recognizing it at first- the photo that of a blonde, pale woman with long hair tied back neatly, eyes and lips softly shut.  
But that was _her_ face; _her _gentle features so _calm _and _relaxed_. _She_ was looking at a picture of _herself_- there was no mistaking it.  
Her hands unconsciously found the back of her head, gently stroking the soft, lengthy wisps of her ponytail- she brought it over her shoulder, glancing down to confirm what she already knew- her pigment was gone, light strands of sandy blonde erasing all signs of a rich brunette. The color change however, wasn't what bothered her. Instead, her heartbeat quickened as she realized that this had been completely involuntary, out of her control- whoever; _whatever_ had done this might not have stopped there…

Her lips beginning to quiver, Jill knew something was very wrong. She could feel it, her stomach tightening painfully in alarm, goose bumps rising to cove her bare arms- she listened well to her intuition, strong from years of chaos. Her suspicions slowly building, she knew to keep an open mind; fighting to remain unbiased.  
As Jill skillfully set her worries aside, the wits that had earned her place as a former member of Raccoon City's Special Tactics And Rescue Service readily filled her conscience. She found that it was all coming together, bit by bit- tiny clues unraveling the final mysteries of her environment. This was some kind of medical wing; and she was being watched, observed- and not just by computers. _Tricell_…this was a Tricell facility, as indicated by the computer mainframe. So was this _Tricell's_ doing; a company that helped fund the BSAA…? What the hell did they want with _her_?

She must have stumbled upon a small workstation within the room, complete with access to her every statistic. Various data files in manila folders were scattered about on the desk in front of her- they all shared the same chilling label: _Jill Valentine_. These _people_…they had admission to a wealth of information…so much information; and most likely- not just hers. This system- this _corporation_…if knowledge was power, then Tricell had to be a monster in the business; whatever their business _was_. It was clear- Tricell was violating policies and laws left and right, with the very attainment of such records. Jill couldn't help but think of the bastards who had worked for Umbrella…could _Tricell_ be up to no good as well? They had to be- they were breaking the rules, abusing power and endangering the public.  
As a business, there were just boundaries you did _not_ cross. Especially after _Umbrella._

Her teeth grinding in anger, she snatched a pen from the cluttered workplace, ready to use it as a lethal weapon if needed- if she had to fight her way out of here with a writing utensil, may God have mercy on those who got in her way- in the hands of Jill Valentine, it'd be the deadliest pen on the face of the earth.

Slowly turning, filled with an invigorating energy, her _will _to survive; she listened as the faint footsteps quickened. With the pace now down-pat, Jill was confident that she could overpower _one_ man- but as the tempo changed again, the thuds seemed to double- then triple as they grew louder, more powerful, approaching her location.

Her toes curled in her nervous tension, she found herself on the edge of hyperventilation- but to regulate her breathing was becoming increasingly difficult, beads of sweat forming on her skin as she heard the pressure release; the door opening noisily while a smog-like haze arose to temporarily mask her visitors.

Her full lips parting slightly, she drew in a vast breath of air, her grip tightening on her only instrument of self-defense.

As the camouflage of the fog began to fade, Jill glared viciously at the three men who stood before her- her gaze shifting from the first, who appeared to be a scientist or doctor, to the two armed guards behind him. Her piercing blue-grey eyes were filled to the brim with malice, only bringing smirks to the faces of the security- she hurried to mentally sketch out an alternate plan of action; a way to take _them_ out first…

'_Shit…' _

She raised her improvised dagger, rejecting the panic that held her, her eyes narrowing as sickening laughter erupted from the armed men. They thought this was _funny_…?

The doctor-scientist reached deep into the pocket of his white lab coat, pulling out some kind of identification in a defensive manner. His features were tensed, almost afraid, and Jill scrutinized him, searching for a weakness to exploit. His coat had the Tricell logo on it- along with his id, detailing his position as a staff researcher. She wasn't worried about the thin, anxious male; she could easy incapacitate or escape him.  
But the dimwits in the _rear_…

"_Tch_- disgusting. You're not even _attempting _to hide anythin_g_. Obviously, Tricell's not as _clean_ as I thought."  
The guards exchanged glances, smug as they loosened their posture. This was good- even if only for a minute, she was stalling them, distracting them from resealing the door- now Jill hoped to catch them off-guard- it seemed simple enough with her feisty approach.

"Why don't you shut that pretty little mouth of yours and sit your ass down, this'll go a lot quicker."  
The guard to the right chuckled at his buddy's smart remark, his gun snug to his side as he elbowed the taller man. Jill smiled sarcastically, disgusted by the pathetic soldiers- they had to be corrupt military or mercenaries for hire. The men appeared to be Americans, including the man in the white coat- but she couldn't be sure. She snuck a look at their firearms as they whispered amongst themselves, noting that the doctor was visibly unarmed.  
_  
'Submachine guns…I don't know if I can outrun that…'  
_  
Jill's train of thought was interrupted as the doctor-scientist sighed, clearly exhausted and at a loss. She took pity on him, knowing that not only _his_ patience was wearing thin. She blinked as the damned guard opened his pie hole yet again, intent on amusing his pal. _  
_  
"Oh, and…drop the pen. Don't wanna hurt yourself now, do you?"

Her knuckles cracking as she squeezed her fists, Jill was tempted to sock the idiot in the face; but restrained herself- she had to be more clever than that.

"Just do what you came to do and go _away_."

It was an honest choice of words- the skinny scientist nodded, his backup grumbling spinelessly as they followed behind him. So, she was Tricell's newest subject, huh…? Not if she could help it.

Jill waited as they came in closer, tilting her head in a small gesture of warning, and inhaled through her nose.  
Only one of them caught on; the scientist backing away just in time as she rushed forward, swiftly bringing a knee to an unsuspecting soldier's crotch. As he cried out and sunk to the floor, she knew he was down for the count- at least for a little while. Prepared, she jabbed her pen deep into the other guard's shoulder as he tried to take her down, blood spurting from his wound as he screamed in terror. A trembling, gloved hand managed to pull out the pen in one quick motion, though proving excruciatingly painful- but when he readied his weapon, Jill had already sprinted for the open door.

"Damn bitch!"  
As they shot wildly into the air, Jill avoided the guard's bullets by keeping low, disappearing through the doorway and down the narrow hallway of the Tricell facility- her heart pounding in her chest, Jill knew she'd taken a chance- she didn't know her way around here; where she was going; she wasn't even sure where she was…  
But none of that mattered- it was a chance she had to take; a rule of survival. Clinging to her thin sheet, she sped down the corridor, yelling voices echoing behind her as she willed her legs to work harder; go faster. It wasn't fast enough; she couldn't run fast _enough_- not if she wanted to make it out.


	2. Cornered

Panting as she neared the end of the walkway, Jill slid to the corner, turning on her heel to dart down another, almost identical hall. Racking her brain for ideas, Jill could only pray that she was getting _somewhere_; that she wouldn't run into a dead end, or worse. Her feet squeaking against the checkered linoleum floor, she cursed the noise, pushing her legs to run at a ridiculous speed. Adrenaline surging through her veins, it was surprisingly easy to keep her pace- she took advantage of her fear; her strong heart thumping in tune with her every stride. She had to keep going…but _where_?

It was then that she heard the blaring of emergency sirens, speakers announcing her blatant escape. Had she been too daring…? _Stupid_? Such a violent, untimely exit might ruin all other chances of ever getting out of this place…

Heavily armed guards seemed to flood in from all directions as Jill continued her mad dash, struggling to dart past them- she was becoming desperate, worried. Her small flame of hope was beginning to lose its strength; soon to burn out all together. Just a _little_ bit more…if she could only get just a _bit_ further…

Impatience taking a hold, the soldiers pressed forward, closing in on their prey. The large, modern facility was like a maze- one that Jill was hopeless to break free from. Shoving the dark clothed men with all of her strength, she was able to make it to a large, industrialized door. Her body slamming into it with the force of her swiftness, she frantically searched for a way to open it. No handle, no turning wheel, no simple locking mechanisms- she cried out in frustration, turning to stare fiercely at her opposition.

They wouldn't _shoot_ her, would they? No…not if she'd been intentionally revived. She couldn't stop now- she _had _to keep going.

'_But there's nowhere left to go…!'_

In her heightened state, her brain had been far too plagued- working in overdrive, she failed to comprehend it. It was simple; standard…she should have known. She had been cleverly followed, the soldiers herding her right where they wanted her- yet she had ignored the signs, fear driving her to the extremes. So she ran and ran, helpless like a lost little girl- until she reached the end. This chase; this _game_...it was over. And already, she had lost.

The guards she had injured earlier came shambling to the scene, holding shoulder and crotch, respectively. Jill was too defeated to laugh. Their faces twisted with anger, they tried to redeem themselves by pointing their firearms in her direction- Jill simply rolled her eyes, denying them power over her. Not them…these pathetic scumbags weren't any reason to be afraid. But in the back of her mind, she knew who _was_…

As if confirming her thoughts, her deepest feelings of terror, playing on her doubts and dreaded thoughts- she felt as the door opened leisurely behind her, the pressurized sound all too familiar by now. Cool air came rushing in, making her shiver in her scarce covering. But something felt different- the air was thick, and breathing became a hassle- there was an aura of cruelty, hatred surrounding her, suffocating her. Her bare flesh burned as if sensing the flaming eyes that bore holes into her back, and she dared not turn around.

The warm breath on her neck made her heartbeat splutter- it was far from the comforting pant of a lover, no more human than the coldest cold; not when she knew who it was coming from. Her skin grew moist with perspiration as she felt his heat, _unbearable_ heat…it was as if he were on fire, the warmth spreading, blazing, and blistering her body. Yet she was chilled, overcome by fear- the fluctuation only made her tremble more.

His chuckle was _low_, menacing as always. He whispered in her ear, leaning over her shoulder as she turned her head violently away.

"_Hasty, aren't we?" _

Swallowing hard, his words frightened her to the core. She shut her eyes tight, willing it all to disappear- willing herself to wake up from this nightmare. But she could _still _sense him…

"Back to position."

His voice was stern, but smooth- _almost_ lacking all emotion. Only a small difference in tone informed her- she could tell he was angry. Why hire such idiots in the first place, if they were only going to disappoint…? Then again, he'd probably kill them all himself when the time came.

Fighting to accept reality, Jill regained her sight, watching as the guards tamely obeyed. Even the fuming soldiers she had wounded prior seemed to bow their heads- scattering like scared dogs, they disappeared with their tails in between their legs, not one uttering a single word.

With the guards gone, Jill felt even more vulnerable and exposed- virtually naked, she stood in silence as her escapade began to take its toll. Drained of energy, she wasn't far from collapsing- her spirits drenched by the ominous presence behind her.

"I assure you this _won't_ happen again. However, now that you're _awake_, I do suppose it's time to transfer sectors…"

'_Wesker…'_

There was no doubt about it- now she knew for sure that he too had survived. Just as she'd thought…but that still didn't explain why she was here.

Her nose wrinkling in disgust, Jill gathered her might and whirled around to face the man she'd been hunting down for years. He was going to give her answers…he had to.

"_What do you want with me?_" She spat, ignoring the sound as her voice cracked in panic- though her fear clearly entertained the tyrant. The glare reflecting off of his dark shades added to his intimidating appearance, and he offered her but a self-satisfied smirk.

"_Answer _me!"

Her eyes burning with hot tears, Jill hurriedly blinked them away, the mixture of frustration and fear too much to bear. But to her surprise, Wesker's smugness seemed to fade, his face growing serious; his features sharp and icy.

He looked as if he were about to respond- to give her the answers she so craved; but it was a false perception. Reaching out a gloved hand, he curled his finger, gesturing for her to follow. He then turned swiftly on his heel, his leather trench coat flowing behind him as his heavy boot steps resonated against the floor.  
When he heard nothing, he stopped only once- turning slowly to find that Jill had not moved an inch. His patience was dwindling- within seconds, he was behind her again, Jill's eyes seeing nothing but hazy darkness.

He grabbed her roughly by the wrist, and she cried out in pain- her fragile bones felt like they were being crushed, her veins deprived of blood as his tight grasp cut off circulation. He grunted with annoyance and released her as she glared at him with hatred, but he did not stop there- lifting her up from the floor, he held her in his arms, far from a gentle grip. She thrashed and screamed, punched, kicked, bit- but Wesker remained unfazed, her efforts in vain and only tiring her body further. Severely weakened, Jill clung to her sheet, using the last of her energy to maintain her humility. Her only cover provided little protection- but at the moment, it was all she had.

"_Be a good girl, Jill."_

Wesker sped off at a superhuman speed, leaving the secured sector far behind...

And the hopeless woman pressed to his chest was too exhausted to care.


	3. Caged

She could only guess it'd been days since her last attempt…her _first_ attempt at escaping from this hellhole. Her stomach was sour, acidic and sore from lack of food; throat parched without water. She was cold, shivering from the absence of warmth, with nothing but her sheet remaining to hold on to. Why had she been so _impulsive_? Had she really made the right choice, trying to flee…? Jill could only reflect on her actions, where she went _wrong_…  
She couldn't afford to make the same mistake again- if she were even lucky enough to find another opportunity.  
Her re-capture had been her own _fault_. She hadn't planned enough, thought things through enough. There had been a flaw in her judgment- she'd been narrow-minded, too shaken by her sudden dilemma to take the desirable amount of time to think logically upon small but important details. With time alone, thoughts flooded her conscience. Given where she had first came to, it seemed that she had awoken in a hospital-like environment- and with her lack of clothing and loss of hair pigmentation, she could only draw _one_ conclusion- _something_ had been done to her, and maybe not just on a medical level. Yet she began to wonder…did any of that even matter now…?

After thoroughly squashing Jill's hopes and plans of a getaway, Albert Wesker had proceeded to turn up the heat on his enslaved former S.T.A.R.S. operative. Successfully detained, she was switched to a more dangerous and private division of Tricell's expansive underground facility- his personal quarters- where her continued existence was proving unbearable. _Still_, no answer to why she was here- _still_, no knowledge of the world she used to know. There was only Tricell, Wesker, and the cold, tiny cell in which she now resided. After having passed out following her efforts to break away, Wesker had thrown her into a cage, locking her in like an animal. With no certainty of the passing of time, Jill could only lose and regain consciousness routinely, time after time until time itself became unimportant. Yet within her, a resolve stronger than Wesker could ever imagine began to develop; to grow and build upon itself until it consumed her. Though she remained still in her confinements, Jill Valentine had not given up in the slightest.

Her head shot up at the sound of her cell door opening, her eyes, though tired, filling with a passionate rage at the face revealed.  
It was not who she expected to see- but her expression didn't soften. This was a stranger; no more familiar to her than her strange surroundings, and no doubt in on Tricell's scheme. But this stranger…was a _woman_.

"Get _up_, you look pathetic lying on the floor like that."

The fair skinned woman stepped inside, her heels clicking loudly against the ground- she placed a hand on her hip, her glossy lips pouting as Jill studied this new face. She was _beautiful_- her body was covered scantily by a thin, silk dress, low-cut and secured around the neck; her dark hair collected neatly atop her head in a tight bun. Make-up flawless, pearl earrings dangling from her ears- it was clear that this woman was not just another Tricell scientist. Gaudy golden jewelry and accents hung around her neckline, waist, wrist, and ankles, and for a moment, Jill wondered if this woman was some kind of royalty. But what struck Jill most was the woman's _thick_ accent…  
She spoke with such authority; such conviction- her sultry voice hinting at perhaps an Italian ethnicity. Though specifics could not be attained, Jill's mind was sharp as always, and she took in all the information she could about the mysterious woman. What did she want with _her_…?

"What _are _you, _deaf_…? Answer me when I'm talking to you- this is no place to be impolite, you _know_."

Nodding in compliance, Jill rose shakily to her feet, gripping her covering tight to her body and cautious as the woman strode elegantly towards her. Her haughtiness was extreme and unconcealed, as if she were shameless of her conceit. It infuriated Jill- and she tensed in preparation at being approached.

"You look healthy _enough_. _Hmph, why do I always get stuck with jobs like this_?"

As the dark haired lady began to mumble to herself, Jill grew impatient, anxious at the sight of freedom just beyond her cell door. But before she could say a word, she felt the stranger's cold fingers on her face, lifting her chin as the woman examined her.

When she began to turn her head, Jill could not keep silent any longer. Pulling away, she slapped the inquiring hands away from her; eyes wild with fury.  
Time to try a different approach; submission wasn't getting her far- maybe asserting her authority as a member of the B.S.A.A. would scare her enough to talk.

"Kidnapping me was a _bad_ idea. After I get out of here it won't take long for me to figure out who you are- and when I do, I'm going after you. I'll ask _one_ more time. _What _do you people _want_?"

The woman smirked, her nose high in the air; and she began to applaud Jill's efforts at intimidation- was she not aware of the situation she was in…? Laughing lightly, she shook her head, reveling in the power that she had achieved with Wesker at her side- this prisoner was just like all the others. Though certain circumstances had been altered, surely this girl held no significance in regards to Wesker's plans. There was no one coming for her; no one to rescue her…she was nothing more than a slave now. _Perfect_ for a king and queen…

"_Jill_, is it…? He was _right_, you _are_ stubborn. But _that_ will change _soon_, don't worry. Not like it will get you _anywhere_ anyway…"

Taken aback, Jill scowled, clenching her fists- who was she talking about? How did she know about her? And who was she to conclude that anything about _her_ would change…? Jill was sick of the mockery; she cracked her knuckles, and though physically worn out, she would exert what little strength she had left if necessary.

"How do you know my name…? _Who_ are you?"  
Backing into the corner of the room, Jill tried to stay as far away from the woman as possible, struggling to restrain herself. Hurting this woman would only spell trouble, she was sure of it- but her hands ached to wrap tightly around her throat, her common sense dwindling at her boiling point.

"And _why _should I tell _you_…?"

Her nose wrinkling in irritation, Jill Valentine spat her angered response. This was no time for games, and she'd had enough of knowing _nothing_. Now faced with a reasonable source of information, Jill couldn't let the chance slip by.

"You seem to know about me- so I'm guessing you're aware of what I'm _capable_ of. I'm pretty sure you like that face you've got, people like you just _reek_ of vanity…but _don't worry_; I guarantee I've got a cure."

Frowning in displeasure, the mysterious woman looked deep into Jill's eyes, her shaped eyebrows furrowing in her concern. She could sense the ferocity, the gravity of Jill's words, and was apprehensive of gambling on an important asset- her beauty. Though Jill was in no position to threaten the woman, if she were not careful, injury was a _real_ possibility. Satisfied by the woman's sudden apprehension, Jill kept her composure, poised to keep her promise but hoping to negotiate.

"I'm surprised you don't know me- Excella Gionne, _CEO_ of Tricell Africa."

Tricell…Tricell _Africa_- that had to be where she was. How did she get from Europe to a facility in Africa…? And that _name_…

"I _know_ you! You're an officer in the Global Pharmaceutical Consortium- just what the hell do you think it is you're doing?"

Excella laughed, this time without control, and the blonde feared the worst. Was this woman just another wacko intent on screwing humanity over? Jill couldn't shake the strong connection she felt between Tricell and Umbrella- from abduction to unnecessary force, each second their similarities seemed to grow. Tricell had something to hide…  
Still entertained by Jill's confusion, Excella gestured for her to exit the cell, but suspicious, Jill refused to cooperate. There was no way she was following this madwoman _anywhere_.

"If you want to stay in your little cell, that's fine with me. But you're wasting my time- are you coming or not…?"

_Silence_. Her jaws clamped together hard, she was intent on giving Excella the silent treatment.

But the hairs on Jill's arms and neck stood up inexplicably, and her body began to shake. It was then that Jill's stomach clenched painfully in fear as she heard boot steps echo just behind the CEO of Tricell Africa- heavy, proud. Her throat tightened instantly, and she knew it was _him_.

Jill was unwilling to move without definite answers; but she was weak, and survival was a priority. Like _this_, she knew she stood even less of a chance against him than usual- in which, was very little of a chance at that.

Walking right up to Excella, he smiled the smallest of smiles, clad fully in pitch-black leather. His eyes were concealed as usual by his shades, but Jill could sense Wesker's amusement all too easily.

Excella ran her hands down the man's chest, in what Jill decided was an effort to seduce him. Her eye twitching in disgust, Jill could sense the greed for power behind it all. Wesker ignored her advances however, and Jill began to get the very accurate impression that Excella was no more than a tool to him- just like S.T.A.R.S. had been - just like she had.

Rolling her eyes, Excella soon deserted her actions, sensing it best to enlighten Wesker of his prisoner's defiance, hoping to return to his good graces. Cupping a hand to his ear, she leaned in to share her experience. Though she even went as far as to exaggerate Jill's disobedience, Wesker but chuckled coolly, causing the prominent member of the Gionne family to widen her eyes in shock.

"Come now, even I grow tired of watching you _rot_."

His voice brought shivers down Jill's spine, and once again, she could feel the heat radiating from his frame- it seemed to scorch her sensitive, bare skin.  
Trying ineffectively to mask her alarm, Jill laughed falsely, knowing that in reality, his words were a blatant lie. Even she knew that there were few things he enjoyed more than the torture of others- especially if 'others' meant her, Chris Redfield, or the _both_ of them.  
But Jill knew that Chris was safe; safe for now. She only prayed that he wasn't getting himself into trouble or being stupid, acting impulsively as he so often did. Remembering Chris eased Jill's mind, and she realized that she was happy to be where she was, as long as it meant Chris _wasn't_.

Wesker chuckled again, completely insensitive towards Jill's predicament. It gave him great satisfaction, knowing she had nowhere to run; no place to hide. And although he was pleased with his work, like any man of influence, Wesker had an agenda- and luckily for her, Jill had a part to play.

"Surely insuring your own comfort can't be that repulsive. Isn't that how you've always gone about your duties…?"

It was sudden, unexpected- the remark hit Jill somewhere deep, hidden and protected. He couldn't have meant back during her days as a member of S.T.A.R.S., with the _man_ known as Albert Wesker as her captain. Was he implying that she took the _easy_ way out…? Went down the road less treacherous in order to complete an objective? She would throw herself into the line of fire for the sake of others! How _dare_ he…!  
She lashed out immediately, enraged at Wesker's ridicule of her, her hands flailing to injure him in any way possible; but he had anticipated this- how easy it was to make her anger flare _so_. With an appalling swiftness, Wesker simply captured her pounding fists within his own gloved hands, gripping tight until she let out an agonizing scream.

"Don't you _dare_ mock me…! You're _wrong_, you know you're wrong you _freak_!"

"My patience is wearing thin. I have need of _y_our body, but your approval is _not _necessary."

Her face twisted with rage, Jill struggled to free herself from Wesker's excruciating hold, but he failed to even slightly loosen his grasp.

"_Wesker_…!"

Her shriek was one of defeat, as Wesker released her to fall heavy on her knees.  
"_That's _it, Jill. Very good."

He patted her head like a master would his obedient dog- but she remained slumped over, quivering as sobs escaped her lips in her agony.

Excella crossed her arms, intolerant and apathetic of the scene.  
Sighing in phony fatigue, her eyes softened as she looked into Wesker's sunglasses, unable to find the fiery gaze that lie behind.

"Can we go now, _Albert_…? I'm getting tired of standing here."

Frowning, Wesker had almost forgotten of Excella's presence- he waved his hand for her to leave, uninterested in her company.  
"_Go_."

The Italian woman grudgingly did as she was told, not wanting to arouse Wesker's anger- but Excella was green with envy; how strange for Albert to take such interest in a mere _pet_. However, for the time being, she _supposed_ she could let it slide- there was no reason to worry, Albert's priorities were much higher than this '_Jill_'. Yet little did she know that her compliant absence would promote the beginning of a _very_ precarious relationship.  
One between predator…and prey.


	4. Answers

Taking a minute to regain her composure, Jill slowly rose from the floor, trying to find her balance on weak legs. She hurried to wipe the wetness from her eyes and face, using a single arm, and when she felt her self-respect had returned she stood up as straight as she could.

Wesker didn't need to say a word- he turned and exited the cell, and Jill knew to follow him. She did so quietly, staring blankly at his leather-clad backside.  
But her thoughts _continued_ to race frantically.

_So it was final…_

The terrifying reality of her situation was becoming clearer by the second. Jill Valentine was trapped like a rat, destined for whatever Tricell had in store for her. How could she even dream of escape when Albert _Wesker_ stood in her way…? His words resounded in her head…  
_  
'Need of my body…'_

Her lips quivering as a jolt of electricity shot through her, she unconsciously wrapped her arms around herself as she walked along; knowing she was unprotected.

'_What could he mean_…?'

Jill knew one thing- it was out of her hands. If she wanted to survive, she knew she had to play his game. Knew she had to bend. The thought made Jill sick, but her stomach seemed to cave in on itself, devouring whatever it could, so void of sustenance. If this kept up, the energy to fight back at all would be absent, and she couldn't allow _that_ to happen. But what would she need to do to gain their trust…?

Perhaps she had managed to fool them into thinking she'd finally accepted defeat- Jill's breakdown in front of Wesker just minutes ago had been shameful, but the pressure was too much to bear. Facing starvation, dehydration, experimentation; Jill could only sit alone in her cell room, finding only the smallest comfort in sleep. She had been so _weak_ in front of him; she had let him see her like _that_…Jill was regretful of the pleasure he must have taken from the episode, but he had not won _yet_. Hope had not left her, and until she was _dead_ she would never submit. Maybe on the outside, but not where it counts. Even if her health should deteriorate, her determination couldn't be halted.

Jill breathed in deep through her nose, closing her eyes for a short moment in an attempt to calm her nerves. Wesker had led her here, to his _laboratory_- Jill feared to discover why. It was huge, filled with technology Jill had never seen before; perhaps even heard of. Anything seemed possible with this much equipment; and she was sure this was only the half of it.

Wesker remained within the vicinity, appearing here and there with different monitoring devices within his grasp. It didn't take long for Jill to figure out what these were for, but the idea of Wesker checking on her health was certainly strange. However, she knew all too well that _that_ man always had a motive for _everything_…it had to be in his own interest, for his own plans.

Exhausted, she quickly took a seat on a nearby stretcher, tightly holding her sheet against herself, pondering once again atop the long piece of metal, cold against her skin.

_"Can you remember how long it's been since you've had food or water…?"_

Jill wanted to laugh out loud, though deep inside, she knew she was bitter. He didn't care for her; why was he asking? So he could maintain her vitals for his twisted research? Was she _really _willing to live only to be subjected to the horrors she knew lie ahead…?  
_Yes_…there was no other way.

Gritting her teeth, Jill searched her head for an answer. _When had she last had food or water…?_ It was a good question. She could only _guess_ that he meant _after_ her suspended animation- she hadn't felt the pangs of hunger until she awoke.

To be honest, Jill couldn't remember; be sure- there was no way for her to keep track of time, and she easily became lost, uncertain of the date, the day of week…  
How irresponsible of him to not have kept track himself. Expecting her to know…

"I don't know…a few days…"

She could only make an estimate from her body's condition, the fact that she was still alive providing some insight on the situation. At least she wasn't _dead_- but she was in a lot of pain, and worn out in every way possible.

As expected, Wesker was cold; showing no emotion, having no sympathy. Completely unfeeling, in a way that never ceased to leave Jill baffled. He nodded slightly, pleased to have received the desired information, and proceeded to advance to her stretcher.

Jill swallowed hard, struggling to appear unafraid- yet she could not, unable to keep her body from trembling. Wesker offered a teasing smile at this, his confidence forever growing, and Jill's heart thumped loudly in her chest.

"_In that case…you are in need of sustenance. Correct?" _

The woman nodded slowly, curious as to where this was going. Was Wesker going to provide her with this 'sustenance'…? Provide _for_ her…?

He opened his mouth as if to continue, but apparently found it unnecessary as he let his lips close, a low chuckle finding its way to Jill's receptive ears.  
With one hand, he slipped out his sleek Personal Digital Assistant, much to Jill's surprise. She knew he was highly intelligent, with only the highest quality technology at his disposal- but somehow, she hadn't expected such advanced organization on his part. Though she supposed, with a mind like his, it only made sense. Small enough to fit concealed within his leather coat pocket, Wesker seemed to use the PDA with ease. Wielding a small pen-like pointer conveniently held on the mechanism, he accessed the touch screen, dragging and tapping as he sorted through his surely boundless data.  
What was he up to now…?

Bringing the receiver to his ear, he but simply pressed a button, allowing Jill to faintly hear a voice on the other line as he seemed to connect to an accessible source.

"_Yes_, this is Wesker. I request food and water for test subject zero zero eight four, six two three _seven. _Quickly."

Her eyes wide, Jill almost couldn't believe it. So he _was_ going to provide her with what she needed…in order to remain among the living. Never in a million years had she imagined such a thing would ever occur, but her intuition told her that it was simply protocol.

"…"

Nails gliding smoothly across the chilled metal, Jill begged for any distraction. Being on her own in a room with Albert Wesker couldn't be good for her; in _any_ way. She let her head fall to touch her chest, desperate to escape from Wesker's gaze- but she knew it was no use.  
It was clear that he had the upper hand- Wesker was cruel and manipulating, controlling her through fear and negligence; set on breaking her will- she was aware that this was his intention, and he had every meaning of making it a reality. It would be unwise to underestimate his mentality…as a defenseless prisoner, Jill had no choice but to give him the impression he craved. The charade was bound to be over soon, however. She was on the edge of snapping…as her worst enemy found all the right buttons to push in order to infuriate her.

"_So oblivious, Valentine…it's almost endearing. Naivety suits you." _

Her head shot up, hair whipping the back of her neck.  
That was _it_. _No_ one called Jill Valentine naïve and got away with it…not even Wesker. She refused to be made a fool of by her greatest foe- and struggled to defend her pride.

"_Fuck _you, Wesker_._" She spat sourly, only slowly becoming fearful of the repercussions _after_ she had so quickly spoken.  
Trying to redeem herself, she hurried to dismiss her temper, hoping to make a more civilized- and _respectful_- improvement.

"No one will _tell_ me…no one will give me _any_ _answers_. What do you _expect_…?"

He smiled a cat-like grin, Wesker's fearsome eyes glowing from behind his darkened shades.

"Why, _Jillian_. A pleasant correction- that's much better. You're growing all the wiser- but you seem to be under a misapprehension. The risk was solely yours to take. Shall I verify your current predicament…?"

Fists clenched tightly, Jill was unsure- could she believe his words? She knew all too well of Wesker's forked-tongue, his tendencies to deceive and betray. But perhaps there was some truth to be severed from the lie…  
Jill crossed her arms, eyes narrowing in careful assessment.

"Please do."

Tickled by her suspicion, Wesker shook his head slowly, his lips frozen in a wicked smile.

"From the beginning, then. You see _Jill_, after you so boldly tackled me out of that window, gripping onto my body for dear life seemed to function in two _convenient_ ways for you. O_ne_, it insured that I would not emerge unscathed…and _two_, it became your only chance of survival. I honestly thought you were going to die, and I would be rid of a nuisance- but you surprised me."

Jill laughed bitterly, her mind flashing back to that dreadful night.  
"Tell me something I don't know."

Tilting his head in question, Wesker's delight was slowly fading. His leather-clad hand reached up to grasp the stem of his glasses, sliding them tactfully off of his ears and away from his face. Peculiarly, his brows were furrowed, as if questioning Jill's wayward conduct- how daring she was, indeed. But it would be the death of her... His fiery eyes silently clashed against the icy blues that opposed him; neither waning in power nor passion.

"Despite being wounded and highly provoked- I decided to _spare_ you. Simply ending your misery would have been a waste, and Chris's screams were too…_delicious_ not to be heard and savored again."

"_You're sick_…"

"_Now_, now. You _were_ still alive after all, and what would be the fun in killing you in such a powerless state...? Though I had to be quick with my verdict due to the ticking clock of your fragile life, I believe I made the right choice, don't you…?"

"…_Just_…just tell me how I got here!"

"I _had_ little choice. You were _bleeding out_, slipping away in my hands… _So_, following negotiations with Tricell, I delivered you to this location for treatment. _Ah_ _ah_- I'm not done _yet_. While I thought of what to _do_ with you, _you_ were busy healing within a deep cryogenic sleep at my discretion. The results were satisfactory, however, certain difficulties did not allow for my original plan. Spanning a few months I continued to closely monitor your body, which I soon discovered was _full _of surprises. Is this all making sense to you, _Valentine_?"

The troubled woman bit down on her bottom lip in distress, just hard enough to pierce through the tender, pink skin. Nibbling quietly on her torn flesh, she could only _attempt_ to understand the information she had been given. This was all too much to take in at once, complete _overload_- absolutely terrified, Jill somehow _knew_- Wesker wasn't lying. But what troubled her most seemed to be a trivial detail in his explanation- yet this was precious time that Wesker spoke of, time of which comprised Jill's hectic life. The words stuck out like a sore thumb…

'_Months…?'_

Jill's blood ran cold, and she gasped in shock.

'_Did he say months…?_'  
The thought was terrifying, but within Jill's subconscious mind, it was all but expected. She just _had_ to be _sure_…

"It's been…_how_ long…?"

Wesker smiled, his teeth a brilliant white, sharp and glistening. So she was _finally_ catching on- it was about _time_. However, Wesker intended to relish this moment- milk it for all it was worth. The delight he sensed it would bring was far too mouth-watering to ignore. Just as he'd expected; anticipated…

"_Months_, dear heart. You seem _surprised_- though I imagine, such a prolonged slumber can prove gravely overwhelming for one such as yourself. Truly, there are certain things in this world that take time…and the miraculous recovery of the human body is simply one of them."

Jill was thankful to be seated- she was sure that her legs would have given out by now if she hadn't been. Though not being used, they felt weak, useless- like jelly. Her calves tightened in anxiety as she let the shocking news sink in.

"So you studied me…I was _full _of surprises, that's what you said. What _did_ you find?"

Letting out a strange sigh-like breath, Wesker seemed almost relieved. He shook his head however, eyes closing briefly before they burned into his victim once more.

"You've finally _asked_. It's a shame; I don't assume you'd be pleased to learn of your hidden value. Or perhaps, my _recovery_ of this value would anger you _more_ so…"

Her thoughts racing, Jill couldn't accept her confusion- was she finally being given the _answers _she craved? If so, she was out of luck; unable to understand a word that Wesker spoke.

"…I- I don't understand…"

Unable to run; to hide; to look away, capturing her plump lower lip with her teeth, once more Jill bit down hard, drawing blood as her dread slowly began to build.

Clicking his tongue in disappointment, Wesker's demonic eyes seemed to glow within the dimly lit laboratory, almost memorizing to Jill as he loomed in closer. She wanted to gag as she tasted the coppery, metallic warmth leaking into her mouth, coating her tongue- but she froze when she felt the cold leather of Wesker's glove, smearing the liquid across her parted lips with his thumb, painting them a crimson red.

"_You really should be more careful…_"

Her lips quivering uncontrollably, Jill could only sit and stare deep into those eyes, feel them overpowering her own. Fearfully, she found that it was growing increasingly difficult to respond- speaking in front of Wesker now seemed impossible, even uttering a simple sound in retaliation. She remained silent as time seemed to stop in its tracks.

"You've given me a precious gift, Jill… A gift that will make possible my greatest vision for mankind. _For that I must thank you_..."

Had she heard him correctly…? His smooth, misleading voice had lessened to a provocative whisper, his surprisingly gentle touch making Jill's head spin with confusion. Her face blazed as she watched him bring his blood-coated thumb to his own lips, his tongue snaking out swiftly to greedily lap up the slick, dark fluid. To Jill's horror, he'd _devoured_ the substance, and just as he seemed to lean in to claim what was left on her mouth…

Wesker's PDA began to vibrate, its loud buzzing music to Jill's ears.

What had just _happened_…?

Her heart pounding wildly, Jill seemed to snap out of the haze, quickly wiping the blood from her lips onto the thin sheet that covered her.  
Wesker pulled away, not bothering to answer his PDA's alert. Turning his back to Jill, he could clearly hear the faintest of footsteps, the clattering of metal validating his prediction- Jill's rations had finally arrived.

Coming into focus, the staff member ordered to bring the food felt a strong aura of irritation from the man in the distance- he shuddered whilst catching a glimpse of Wesker's eerie eyes, just before they were hidden again by his shades- and proceeded to gulp noisily like the coward he was. Forcing himself to continue walking forward, the young man could only pray for a lucky break- just deliver the food and get out of there. The fewer questions asked the _better_. Yet he felt he must have interrupted something; the thought spawning after he set eyes on the woman behind the dark, intimidating figure. His first time actually meeting his superior, Albert Wesker, face to face- and he was being shot daggers- at least he _thought_ he was. Needless to say, the unfortunate worker was terrified.

"_Sir_- uh- _Wesker_- uh…_Sir Wesker_!"  
Placing the tray on a nearby desk, the Tricell employee apologized extensively, walking eagerly away with haste as Wesker dismissed him with a wave of his hand. Groaning, Jill's ex-captain faced her once again, his mood thoroughly soured.

"Your _food_."  
Bowing with an outstretched hand, Wesker sarcastically presented Jill's overdue provisions. Jill of course, was not pleased- she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from shooting back a smart remark, slowly making her way off of the table to the tray of food. Tightening her sheet around her supple body, she allowed her underarms to hold it in place, essentially freeing her hands for at _least_ a moment. _Just_ long enough to wolf down the special delivery.

As she came closer, her stomach lurched in excitement when her eyes set sight on a bowl of creamy soup, a clean glass of water, and a few packaged crackers. In her current state, the small meal wasn't far from a feast- Jill's shrunken stomach was painful, but would adapt well to the subtle new additions. She greedily gulped down her glass of water, nothing but an empty cup within a few seconds. Letting out a refreshed '_ah_', she found that although not completely satisfied, the fluid she had been given was a blessing; her thirst was as quenched as it would get.  
Ignoring the lonely plastic spoon upon the metal tray, next, Jill grasped the warm bowl of soup in both of her hands. Appreciating its luscious aroma, she brought it to her lips to pour the velvety liquid down her throat. It burned slightly, but was…comforting. She could feel it travel all the way to her stomach, where it finally settled peacefully.

When she had finished, her eyes unintentionally traveled to Wesker's frame- she willed them elsewhere, somewhat embarrassed by his ever-watching presence. Leaving her empty dishes where they were found, she snatched her crackers, fumbling loudly with the plastic wrapping.

"You didn't _finish_…what you were saying about my body…"

Cocking a blonde eyebrow, the tyrant seemed almost surprised. But he smiled, smug; giving a slow nod of his head.

"_Ah_, yes. Your _body_, Jillian. Does it excite you…? To talk about your body in such a way; to know that I have _truly_ discovered it, its _purpose_?"

Catching the woman off guard, a rush of heat shot rapidly through Jill's body, her lungs struggling to take in much needed oxygen.

This teasing was demeaning, disgraceful…_electrifying_.  
"_Th_-That's _not_ …!"

"Very rarely have I sincerely believed a woman's body beautiful; _do_ consider it a compliment. Because of your contribution, voluntarily or not, my dreams have been granted…_life_, so to speak. Quite a privileged endowment you have…and as it turns out, not without its perks for _myself_."

Slamming the crackers to the floor, Jill crushed them angrily with a bare foot.

"What are you _talking_ about? I'm sick of your games, just _stop _messing with my head and tell me what's going on. It's not like there's anything _I_ can do about it, now _is_ there…? The _least_ you could do is spare me the bullshit!"

Bringing a gloved hand to his chin, Wesker considered his prisoner's demands- perhaps he had kept her in the dark for long enough.

Was it time for her to discover her destiny…?  
Of _course_...Wesker was growing impatient for the _real_ fun to begin.

"Very well. If you want to _know_…look inside of the drawer to my _left_. Read the file. Your questions shall be answered."

Newly invigorated, Jill abandoned her post, rushing to the said drawer that would potentially explain the events since the Spencer Estate. She was eager, but frightened, afraid of what she might find. At the same time however, she _knew_ she was tired of knowing _nothing_. Yet it was unlike Wesker to be so blunt- at least when it came to giving others what they wanted. It seemed almost _too _easy; to simply be granted access to important information- but although suspicious, she gathered her courage, and hurriedly dug into the mess of papers.

Her eyes panicked as they scanned through file after file, she finally discovered her Tricell medical file. Directly behind, a thick collection of papers read in large, bold lettering- "Experimental Records." Jill swallowed hard, blinking continuously, petrified.

A single page took her hopes, energy, and willpower _all _away-

_Test Subject Data:_

_Name: Jill Valentine_

_Race/Ethnicity: Caucasian _

_Country of Origin: U.S.A. _

_DOB: May 19, 1974 _

_Age: 33 _

_Eyes: Blue_

_Hair: Brown – Blonde_

_Blood Type: B _

_Height: 166 cm  
Weight: 50 kg_

_Subject has been in a medically induced stasis for an extended period. All vital signs including heart rate, respiration, blood pressure, and temperature are within normal values. A pigmentation abnormality has been observed. Effect of abnormality is limited to cranial hair follicles. In addition, slight skin whitening (etiolation) has been observed. _

_Subject stabilized; sent in for experimentation. During monitoring, an additional abnormality has been observed- after further testing, abnormality was revealed to be of viral derivation. Antibodies were discovered; highly resistant to the original T-virus; variations. _

_Antibodies have been successfully harvested to be used in project "Uroboros". Subject is no longer suitable for Uroboros testing, however; may be a possible test subject for the experimental P30 serum. _

Jill stood silent, unmoving as the documents slipped from her hands and onto the floor.


	5. Malice

Jill Valentine's face blanched instantaneously, draining of whatever color she had left. Now a ghostly white, the woman could only reflect on the contents of what she had just read. It was so _sudden_- how nothing else mattered but the papers lying on the floor beneath her. She could feel her stomach flip, threatening to expel what she had just received; her hands shook although they were empty, and she let them rest at her sides.  
As memories of a painful past resurfaced, flashing before her eyes, Jill's trembling fists clenched tightly as a blazing fire burned deep within her core.

The report was agonizingly brief- only leading to more questions, more confusion and an even stronger craving for the truth. The _whole_ truth.

Yet at this point, she was unsure if it was something she wanted to delve deeper into, to truly _discover_. If she did find all the answers…would she even have the strength to fight them?

Her entire body shivered as the typed information began to dig a hole in her heart, words etched into her mind… and Jill could not speak.  
One thing she had never counted on, one thing she had hoped to keep between her and hired Umbrella mercenary Carlos Oliveira all those years ago- was her exposure to the T-Virus back in Raccoon City. The fact that she had been infected by the B.O.W. Nemesis had always horrified her, and although the looming terror of the incident seemed to fade away with time, deep down she had always wondered- had she really been _cured_?

According to the files now scattered at her bare feet, she hadn't been. The blonde woman inhaled a single shaky, drawn-out breath. Jill was no scientist, but she knew…

_Antibodies_…antibodies meant that the virus had never been eliminated to begin with, and instead, she was able to build up a resistance to the T-Virus. The injection that Carlos had given her…it must have simply kept the virus at bay.

Jill shut her eyes tightly, her brain flooding uncontrollably with worries and doubts. She urged herself to dismiss the feelings of rage thrown into the mix of emotions, knowing she was dangerously close to breaking- but it was no use.

Uroboros, P30…what did it all mean? _What were_ _Wesker's_ _plans_?

Her imagination ran rampant- and Jill Valentine knew better than anyone of the deadly possibilities.  
Her newfound knowledge was far from comforting; it had done more harm than good, bringing about another dimension of fear. It was sourly ironic how it all seemed to come together now- her period within a cryogenic sleep, the inevitable testing and recorded data…

Wesker's "_vision for mankind_"…his dreams being granted_ life_…

It struck her then- a metaphorical ton of bricks, yet carrying all the pain and then some.

…_Had she helped him somehow? _

Dreading the worst, Jill's eyelids parted slowly to reveal the uncertain blue irises lying behind- and she turned to face her captor.

There was no choice but to confront him, even if this was all just a part of his game. Even if he was simply tempting her with bits and pieces of the reality she hungered for…

"If you're _finished_-"

Wesker's cool voice echoed around her- but Jill paid no attention to the dark shadows darting about. In the blink of an eye, he had gathered the papers from the floor, clutching them protectively in his gloved hands.

"_I'll_ take these."

Jill cleared her throat tentatively, preparing to speak. But how could she respond to the information she had just been given?

"You _used_ me…? You used…my _body_…and you're planning to use it _again_?"

She could feel the acid churning in her stomach, threatening to rise up her throat and expel itself.

'_For what…?'_

Her body quaking with rage, Jill couldn't let go of the authority she had once possessed as a B.S.A.A. agent- but none of that mattered now. As much as she desired to know what role she had played- and still _had _to play- in Wesker's wicked schemes, she knew that as a single person, the well-being of mankind as a whole must always come first.

Dissecting the data she could recall, her final analysis presented a tantalizing question that made her numb with fear. Finding its place on her tongue, her gut feeling told her that it was by far of the greatest importance- and most menacing- of Wesker's ideas.  
Jill could only swallow and trust her intuition.

"_Uroboros_…_"_

The name felt evil, her voice unsteady with fright.

"What is…Uroboros? What…_what_ did you use me for!"

She was shouting now, overwhelmed by the stress and relentless pressure.

Jill was simply _sick_- she was sick of fooling around, and she was sick of being with _this_ man… Sick of every _twist_ and _turn_, the uneasiness of being in _this_ place and _this _situation, with _these _people…

_Away from Chris…_

And fearing for the world as she knew it.

Sensing her anger, Wesker couldn't suppress the resulting smirk that formed on his lips. The more he told of his master plan, the more it tormented Ms. _Valentine_…he could effortlessly tell. This knowledge satisfied Albert in the deepest of ways.

Even if she were unable to understand it, Wesker knew that the suspense would prove debilitating to her- worse than death for the ex S.T.A.R.S. member was being completely and utterly powerless.

"Now, _Jillian_. One revelation at a time. It would be unfortunate, should you find yourself…_overwhelmed_. Quite frankly, I _need_ you stable."

As his voice grew steadily harsher in response, Jill nearly winced, alert to the risk of Wesker's swift and unpredictable changes in behavior.

She was perfectly aware that he was mocking her, yet there was little Jill could do to retaliate. Right now, she needed to submit to the madman's will if she were to have any chance of extracting any _more_ desired information.

This was not going to be easy.

"Y-Yes."

Weary, Jill could not offer any more of a response- yet she hoped to pull the wool over the eyes of the deceiver.

All too soon however, it became painfully obvious that her timid agreement had failed to fool her devious adversary, much to Jill's dismay.

Straightening his spine, Wesker allowed himself to stand at his full height- and he carefully strode toward his prisoner. Setting the papers down atop the messy drawer-top just behind Jill, he stalked ever closer, cornering her between himself and the untidy workspace.  
As to insure she could not escape, his arms reached out to grasp either side of the small desk. He bent forward, as if inspecting her- and Jill was immediately forced to bow backward at an uncomfortable angle to escape his proximity. Terrified to make contact with his body, it wasn't long before her spine began to ache, and blood rushed to fill her cheeks with a tingling heat.

"_I expect you to cooperate from now on, Valentine. You continue to be ungrateful, yet you forget that you owe your very life to me. All resistance shall be met with punishment. Bravery will be crushed by my hand."_

His air of smug superiority receding, he began to emanate an aura of pure malice instead, the frustration rolling off of him in heavy waves.

"_The prospect of your death is forever present. Remember that." _

Jill took Wesker's words with a grain of salt, although she did not know him to bluff. Perhaps luck had gotten her this far, but if she openly defied him, it was imminent that her fortune would soon run out.

His cool breath in her face, the woman nodded solemnly, unable to look him in the eye. She gulped as he finally let her free, lifting himself and removing his hands calmly from the table. Undeniably vulnerable, Wesker's closeness to Jill never failed to send electricity shooting through her body. Ignoring his heated words, she could only think of one thing.

"_Please_…please, can I have some clothes…?"

Strangely stunned by the woman's simple request, Wesker growled in displeasure, knowing that _he_ had failed to ensure that she was properly clothed from the moment she'd awakened.

It seemed innocent enough, something of quality to conceal her womanly components, though it was rather pointless- there was no part of her that Wesker had not seen during careful examination and study of Jill's body. It was merely a part of his scientific method.

The black-clad man sighed, beckoning with a single gloved finger.

Nodding, Jill watched carefully as he turned to leave- but she did not follow as usual. Instead, she found herself searching the lab for a weapon, her eyes dancing around the room, checking every dark corner.

It was instinct, to protect herself from this man. Jill certainly was not the type to obey without question. Orders were bitter when given by a man who did not deserve his power; she rarely took them unless they were directly from her rightful superiors, such as those who worked with and for the B.S.A.A. Yet, she knew her goal.

Part of her felt she could conceal whatever she could find, bringing it out for later use. However, if she were caught, she knew her captor's vigilant gaze would not stray far.

Jill's breath caught in her throat as a tiny glint grabbed her attention, and she eyed a shiny scalpel in the distance with a fragile hope. Located on a silver tray situated crookedly atop a counter just feet away, Jill pleaded with herself, fighting to resist the urge to lunge for the blade.

It wasn't long before Wesker ceased to take his heavy, deliberate footsteps. He was aggravated; he did _not_ wait on others, yet here he was, standing in silence, denied the swiftness of compliance. Looking coolly over his shoulder, Jill's internal struggle was clear to him- she was stubborn, quick-witted, strong willed, and fierce when the need arose to be so. Reflecting on her nature calmed his nerves in a sense; he took her hesitation as a sign of progress; the fact that she continued to suppress her irrefutably unrelenting need to attack him was impressive.

"You've been doing so _well_- let's not make things difficult."

Before Jill could respond, the blonde man had shot up behind her, his hands gripping her shoulders with a cautious strength.

He left her no choice but to accompany him as he began to walk forward, leading her along.

Strolling down one of the many Tricell facility halls, the quiet surrounding the two was haunting. A peculiar energy came from their forms, thick with concentrated loathing and an evident battle for dominance.

'_Where is he taking me…?'_

Of course, Jill would have loved to ask- but she had a feeling that even her relevant curiosity would be met with an unsettling chuckle.

Remembering the general area in which she was positioned gave her some sense of awareness, yet Wesker's private division was far from ideal.

The desolate passageway seemed to narrow as they approached a clear sliding door, but it only lead to an airy, foyer-like space. There were no more doors, no windows or corridors leading out. Just a small mechanical box mounted on the wall, decorated with colored buttons and brandishing a polished screen.

Wesker released Jill warily, and she could not deny that the thought of bolting out of there was prevalent in her mind- however; Wesker removed his glasses to give her a chilling stare. Clearly, it was a warning.

But it served another purpose as well.

Stepping up to the mechanism, Wesker entered some kind of code- his fingers moved much too fast for Jill to determine it, a dark blur in front of her eyes.

The machine then went on to beep thrice, projecting a beam of grid-patterned green light. It was _scanning _one of his inhuman eyes- there was no way to fool this type of highly advanced security, not unless Jill could get her hands on one of Wesker's eyeballs. The thought was preposterous, so unlikely that it quickly disheartened her. Her strongpoint was not electronics and machinery, but the lock-picking of generally standard security devices. This was out of her league.

Focused firmly on the many disadvantages of her situation in which she could not change, Jill hardly realized that a hidden entrance had been opened _right_ in front of her. Wesker was no where to be seen, most likely having entered during her trance- she quickly strode inside, and the wall began to close swiftly behind her, automatic doors within coming together as the exit grew _smaller_ and _smaller_ by the second.  
Her spine tingled as she heard them meet to shut completely, and she knew that there was no going back. She was _trapped. _

It took her a minute, but looking around awkwardly, Jill soon realized with a gasp that she was now located in what _had_ to be Wesker's personal _suite_.

Taken aback, the blonde woman could not help but stare at the many furnishings, astonished by their sophisticated beauty. His sense of style was strikingly similar to Ozwell E. Spencer's- eerie and unforgettable. It was less cluttered though, with more of a modern twist than the décor of the Spencer mansions. She found that it was bizarrely telling of Wesker's personality; how he related to, and differed, from the man whose ideals had been instilled within him.

Too clean to be considered cozy and lacking soft carpeting, the floors were a pearly, glistening white. Cleanliness seemed to have been important to Spencer, but _this_ man took it to the extreme. Jill could look down to see a flawless reflection of herself staring back.

It surprised her, how Wesker had managed to personalize this specified area within the Tricell building- it was very _human_. But on the flipside, Wesker had to leave his mark on _everything_, like a territorial beast. Jill was sure that if she ever escaped, he would have left his mark on _her_ as well…if he hadn't already.

"_The only reason you're here-"_

Upon hearing Wesker's voice, Jill jumped, and instantly ended her assessment of the living space. Rotating her head as calmly as possible, she allowed her eyes to lock onto him as he leaned casually against a wall painted blood-red.

"_Is because the combat test area is currently in use. I would have liked to put you back in your cell, but I thought I might humor you- and myself- with the additional company." _

Jill's nose wrinkled in anger.

"So this is what, an attempt at _kindness_? I'd rather be locked up alone than here with _you_."

Her tongue as sharp as ever, Jill hoped to induce Wesker's fury- it was a habitual game they played whenever they crossed paths. It made her feel stronger; if she could at least have the last word, then some of her pride just might be preserved...

Wesker laughed; it was nearly unrestrained, frightening the woman on the other side of the room. This was not the reaction Jill was hoping for- and she found herself suddenly _very_ exposed.

_"Even better."_


	6. Control

Taking a defensive step back, Jill was uncertain of her continual wellbeing, deep within the perilous confinements of Wesker's quarters.

"I _thought_ you were going to find me some _clothes_…"

Holding her sheet in a tense viselike grip, Jill attempted to mask her fear, but she knew just how useless it was against a man that could easily snap her courage in two. Wesker smirked before disappearing once again, but this time, Jill did not panic. To her surprise, she found that she was growing quite accustomed to his usual antics- only the familiarity she felt frightened her now.

"_Ah, but I already have. While you were in your healing stasis, I found myself with quite a bit of free time on my hands. I only found it fair that I make my own contribution to the project. I designed a special suit- just for you, Jill."_

Cloudy blue orbs could not help but roll in their sockets.

"_Great_. I bet it's hideous."

Without warning, the lights suddenly grew dim; Jill could hear him laugh darkly somewhere in the distance, a sound that commonly came from his lips yet never failed to chill her bones.

She offered him a sarcastic smile that she knew he could see, though for Jill, the atmosphere was becoming_ increasingly _uncomfortable as the seconds kept ticking by.

"_Perhaps not the most fashionable of outfits- however it will certainly accentuate that…figure of yours. I'm sure you can find a way to make it your own."_

Her eyes narrowing dangerously, the blonde woman was far too weary of Wesker's games to argue any longer. Hideous or not, she would much rather have something to wear- despite it being _designed_ by Wesker- than to have nothing more than a cold, thin sheet to cling to.

"What's this really about?"

In a dark cloud, he made himself visible once again- in Wesker's right hand was a dark, crumpled ball of material. Jill could only stare in disgust at Wesker's creation as he tossed it to the floor, along with a pair of black, female briefs.

"_You'll find out soon enough. Put it on."_

Heeding his stern order, Jill bent down cautiously to snatch the costume. The undergarments spoke for themselves.

She did not permit her intense gaze to leave Wesker's figure, suspicious of his intentions. Straightening doubtfully, she rubbed the fabric in between her fingers, allowing it to slowly steal her attention. She flipped it around a few times in her hands, secretly inspecting for any major malfunctions.

It was predominantly stretchy, almost like spandex- expert stitching held it all together; the hardened collar of the outfit seemed to flare out slightly. On its backside were ten mysterious plugs that ignited unease in Jill- aligned flawlessly so as to run down her spine, she could only wonder what the plugs were for. Ribbed on either side of the torso with a protective coating and boasting fully intact heels of a moderate thickness, the suit was unlike anything she had ever seen before.

Shaking it out to hold against her body, Jill continued to evaluate the odd-looking outfit. She was sure it wasn't designed for _comfort_- yet it looked easy enough to slip on and off. This, she realized, was thanks to the enormous length of the zipper's toothed path- straight down the middle. Her cheeks growing warm, Jill's eyes darted to Wesker's face. As she had anticipated, his haughty smirk was still firmly in place- this was surely an attempt to humiliate her even further. But between this strange costume and being all but fully exposed in Wesker's presence, it was not difficult to choose the wiser option. Stepping cautiously over to the briefs, she bent over once again to seize them with one hand, her suit held tight in the grasp of the other.

Rising for the last time, Jill cleared her throat as suggestively as possible- but Wesker did not seem to pick up on her request. The hint was clear enough, but perhaps, she thought, he chose to purposely ignore it, refusing to let her out of his sight.

Either way, she could feel him growing impatient, his arrogant expression beginning to fade. He lowered his head to stare her down, and Jill did not ask any questions.

Hesitation would get her nowhere.

* * *

Fighting her body's natural urge to quake in the helpless situation that she was in, Jill swallowed nervously, taking but a second to compose herself as best she could. She was trained to make decisions quickly, especially under intense pressure.

'_This is no different...'_

Knowing she would be completely vulnerable, completely bare, she turned her back to him, letting the bleached-white sheet fall to her feet.

Ignoring the burning sensation and vivid image of Wesker's demonic eyes boring into her, she filled her lungs with a brave, deep inhalation of air.

The tyrant lingered like a ghost in the shadows, his eyes flashing wildly from behind his darkened glasses; a vibrant red among the blackness. There was absolute silence, all but for Jill's steady breathing. It was a scenario that would strike either intense pity or sick desire in even the most callous of individuals. For Wesker, the former was not an option. Even _he _knew that he could no longer feel useless emotions such as sympathy- not for his captive, not for _anyone_. The mortal Albert Wesker had died many years ago, along with the weakness that his humanity had inflicted upon him.

Desire on the other hand, was an animalistic craving, one that Wesker had not experienced very often in his lifetime. Although he generally found the female body relatively uninteresting aside from its reproductive capabilities, he was peculiarly captivated with this woman's figure- and not just for the possibilities of his research. He was experiencing a carnal hunger, and he was well aware. As much as he hated to admit the fact, regardless of how it disgusted him- he could not deny it. Somewhere along the way, Wesker's perception of her had changed, if ever so slightly.

Perhaps it was her show of determination, her suprising resilience and bravery- but he found himself drawn to her, an attraction that was absurd, but _there_, nevertheless. He had always thought of all humans, especially women, to be weak- stupid, senseless, uneeded. For Excella and most others, this was true- but when compared to Jill, there was a significant difference, a _strength_, albeit not physical- that was worthy of recognition. The nature of his being craved to crush this strength, to overpower her and all of her resources. This _need _applied to her body as well; he wished to forcibly conquer the vessel _holding_ this power. His curious and sadistic mind couldn't help but wonder, was it possible for her emotional strength to survive _that_ kind of devastation?

_He_ would put her to the test in order to find out.

* * *

Jill's pale, smooth skin was evident even in the gloominess; it seemed to emanate a faint, peaceful glow, despite her inner turmoil. She was comforted by the darkness now, slipping calmly into the hip-hugging briefs. As she stepped into her only clothes, Wesker watched nonchalantly as she slid her long legs carefully into the bodysuit; one after the other, until she was able to find her footing, sturdily supported by firm, dark soles.

It was almost sensual, how she snaked her arms into each elastic sleeve, her hands searching for an end- when she found it, she slowly let each finger fill the tightly fitting, high-friction gloves.

Exhaling with a feeling of largely uncomforting relief, Jill hurried to zip up properly, eager to be done with this awkward state of affairs. But she knew better- the embarrassment and shame would not dissipate easily.  
_It might never._

She turned once again to face Wesker, but could not will her eyes to rest on him. Somehow, she was tired- _so_ tired, and craved nothing more than to slowly drift asleep. Maybe she could forget everything; perhaps the humiliation and disgrace just might fade along with her consciousness. It wasn't to be so, however. Escape was unfeasible, even on a psychological level. Besides…Wesker wasn't finished with her, not by far. She could sense it deep inside.

_No_, he still had _much_ more in store.

Breaking the silence, Wesker's air of pride returned as it always did.

"_It fits you well. Certainly more practical than your previous wear_."

The blonde woman nodded, her vision fixed on the shiny black boots of her ex-captain.

Jill sighed tiredly, and he beckoned for her to follow him once again.

Their shoes clicking and clacking harmoniously against the stonework flooring, she was thankful for the lack of conversation. There was nothing more to be said.

His tactics, she realized, were premeditated from the very beginning. Everything he did, Wesker did so in order to slowly shift the balance of power, gaining dominance over her in the most primitive of ways. He had all but conquered her; she was not in control of herself, but instead, subjected to whatever Wesker could conjure.

Jill was never any good with mind games. It was hard enough for her to fend off Wesker's physical authority; battling his intellect was a war she could not win.

Although dispirited, this was something she had expected. Having worked under his supervision, despite the fact that Wesker had always been mysterious and relatively distant, he was still a memorable character. Certain aspects of his personality and mentality caught her attention; they were odd but nevertheless remarkable.

Jill could easily recall his ingenuity and gifted inclinations as her S.T.A.R.S. captain- his way of speech and broad range of experience was something that she could not forget, and although she had never questioned Wesker in the past, it had always been apparent that he was…_different_.

If she ever made it out of this, Jill swore to herself- she would not fail in being as perceptive as possible. Her elite skills had never left her, even after Raccoon City's demise. She had only further developed her abilities, becoming far more capable than she was even as a part of the R.P.D.'s best. She'd use whatever information she could gather from here on out to be rid of Wesker once and for all. In time, she was sure…his weakness could be discovered, and his immoral life would finally come to an end.

* * *

**Oh Em Gee. Okay, I FINALLY decided to post chapter six (and I decided I'm finished with updating it actually, but will make up for this short chapter with a long chapter seven!) XD **

**Also, no, Wesker is not a pervert. It was _my _voice, the author's voice, that was describing and flattering Jill's body, _not _his. I did this for effect, to illustrate the self-discipline Wesker must exert in order to deny the basic desire of man. **

**Overall, he is restraining himself from overpowering Jill _fully_, body and mind, surprisingly. If it's fitting, we might see some of his "kinder" side, as small as it may be, very soon! **

**Also, the plot will be moving into a more sinister direction that relates to RE5 more...similarly. :) I hope you guys haven't forgotten me! Hopefully this will be enough to tide you all over for now, but no worries! There's more to come, very soon!**

**Also, keep an eye out for updates to "Just Can't Win" and my brand-new S.T.A.R.S. centered fic, "Justified Cause"! :D**

**Thanks so much! **

**Reviews and criticisms/compliments are welcome! XD **


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